Stray
by MMaru
Summary: Not all is well in the den of the Wolf of Mibu. What happens when a stray enters the domain?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Rurouni Kenshin.

This story takes place right after the Kyoto Arc. I haven't seen much of the third season, so if anything is inaccurate, you'll have to forgive me. :) I'm not even entirely sure where this story is going to lead. It's my first fanfic in years, and my very first Kenshin fanfic ever! I'm just interested in the relationship between Saito and Tokio (since she is my competition, after all!) so… yea! Hope you enjoy!

Tokio rolled over in her bed, almost jumping out of her skin as she came into contact with a warm body. She'd been half asleep, but the grunt that emitted from the man beside her woke her back up. She could feel the futom shift as Saito lifted himself up to rub his forehead where Tokio had accidentally struck him.

"God, woman, you certainly do take up the bed," he grumbled. Tokio felt her face harden as she rolled onto her side, her back to him.

"Maybe if you slept in my bed more often, I'd be more accustomed to sharing it," she retorted curtly. She closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep before he started on how his work consumed him, and how grateful she should be that he provided for her. She'd heard the lecture often enough when she got impatient with him, and she was fully expecting it now. Instead, she only heard him sigh quietly and get up out of bed.

"I'm going out for a cigarette," he said, sliding the door open.

Tokio only stayed in bed for a few minutes before finally rising and pulling on a thin kimono. She came out on the porch, studying her husband for a moment. He glanced at her, taking another draw from his cigarette before his emotionless eyes turned back to an equally unfeeling moon.

"I'm sorry, Hajime-sama," Tokio said softly. Saito shook his head, flicking some ash from his cigarette.

"It's nothing, Tokio-san," he said, his voice unusually low. "I know I haven't been the loving, attentive husband that all you girls dream of…"

Tokio was about to object, but she stopped herself. It was true, the man standing before her wasn't the doting, worshipping husband that she and all of her friends had hoped for as children. But she thought of Saya, and knew that it could have been considerably worse. Saito was not a good husband to her… she wasn't about to lather him with false praises. She slipped up behind him, carefully putting her arms around him, making sure to avoid his newest wounds. She rested her head on his back, listening to the slow, steady beating of his heart.

"You take care of me, Hajime-sama," Tokio whispered, knowing that he couldn't object to that sliver of truth. He had, after all, given her a house with plenty of space, located on a small plot of land far enough from the city to be a quiet retreat, but close enough to easily make a trip to spend the day there. He'd bought her enough beautiful kimono when they first married to last her for the rest of her life, and had even recently provided her with a son… of sorts. There was nothing she had a need for that he had not given to her.

Tokio suddenly felt very foolish. All the complaining she did about her husband was undeserved. He had been good to her, and all her lashing out was, in essence, over simply the fact that she missed his company. All he had ever asked of her in return for giving her such a comfortable life was that she take care of the house.

Tokio started from her thoughts when she suddenly felt Saito's hand resting over hers. His entire body was tense, and she could sense that there was something he wanted to tell her, but struggled with the words. Tokio tried to wait patiently for him to speak, but after a few silent minutes, she finally pulled away from him.

"Let me change your bandages before we go back to bed, Hajime-sama," Tokio murmured, gently urging her husband back into the house. Saito threw the barely smothering tip of his cigarette into the grass and silently followed his wife indoors. Tokio quickly pulled out a chair, kneeling on the floor before it as her husband took the seat. Tokio pulled out her medical kit, her fingers opening it with a familiarity that she had aquired over the years from being the wife of a police officer. She sighed softly at her husband. This past mission had left him in possible the worse condition he had ever crawled home in. He'd gone all the way to Kyoto and helped defeat the infamous Makoto Shishio. Saito hadn't told her any of the details, and she hadn't asked. A local doctor had sewed and patched most of the wounds that Saito had returned home with, but he'd left most of the work up to Tokio. She was the only one that he fully trusted, and her needle was as effective with flesh as it was with the uniforms she was endlessly mending.

Saito slowly let his robe slip off. The angry glint in Tokio's eye was certainly not missed, and the source was well known to both of them. He draped the robe over the back of the chair he was sitting in, revealing the exposed cross-shaped wounds on his chest.

"Saito Hajime!" Tokio exclaimed, her lips thinning in anger. "What do you think you're doing, taking off those bandages? Are you TRYING to get an infection!"

Saito could only offer a sheepish grin.

"They were itching…"

Tokio sent him a look that would have made him flee tail between legs if his legs weren't still a bit weak from his injuries. Her eyes narrowed till they were nearly as thin as Saito's, and her lips curled into a cruel smile.

"Well, then… I'll be sure to cover the cuts in PLENTY of extra salve so that the bandages don't bother you so much."

Saito gulped, but didn't object. Tokio had lit a few lanterns to give her enough vision to tend to him with. In the flickering light, he could see the shadows creeping into the lines on her face. She'd aged beyond her years since they first married, and her visage, so youthful then, was now creased with worry. Worry that he had caused. His hand reached out to stroke her cheek of seemingly its own volition. Tokio looked up at him from where she knelt on the floor, startled. She looked at him for a moment, then pulled her face away, kneeling back as she finished with the bandages on his chest. Saito knew the drill by now. He stood and turned his back to her as he pulled off his pants, then sat back down. Tokio didn't look up as she knelt by Saito's parted knees, and he couldn't help but note with amusement that she was careful to keep her blushing face away from a certain area of his body. Saito smirked. He didn't know what Tokio did with her spare time, but at least he could be assured that she wasn't cheating on him.

Tokio slowly finished wrapping the gash on Saito's left leg. The cuts on his chest had nearly finished healing, but those on his legs still had a way to go. Saito spent most of his time at work behind a desk, but the walk back from Kyoto, and the walk to and from the city on an almost daily basis was certainly not helping in the healing process. Tokio had offered to hire him a palaquin into Tokyo each day, but he stubbornly refused. His pride would somehow always get in the way of his health.

Tokio turned away from Saito's naked form as she rolled up the remaining bandages. For as much as she acted like she hated him, in the end, she was still his wife, and her duty was to him and his house.

Tokio was startled for what seemed like the hundredth time that day as she felt strong arms wrap around her, and hot breath warmed her neck. Her initial reaction was to pull away, but Saito had a firm grip on her now, hugging her to himself tightly. Tokio stopped struggling and reached back, touching his face gently with her soft hands.

"There's something that I've been wanting to tell you, Tokio-san," Saito murmured, his lips brushing against her neck as he struggled with the words. "In Kyoto, I…I thought for sure that I was finally going to die… I walked back into that flaming fortress and I thought it would be my end. I had… only two regrets. One was that I might never have my rematch with the Battousai, and the other… was that I've never taken the time to really appreciate you… to… to thank you for.. for your patience with me… for taking care of me when I'm here… I walked into that fire and I knew I should have died, but I couldn't, absolutely could not…"

Tokio put a finger to Saito's lips. She turned around in his arms, looking into his eyes. His countenance was as cold and hard as ever, but his eyes were just a sliver more gentle, with an almost pleading sheen to them. There were so many words she wanted to speak to him, now that he had opened up a bit of his heart. Words of longing. Words of strength. Words of gratitude. Words that could never possibly be sufficient. For the first time in years of marriage, Saito was truly opening his soul to her. Tokio found a more appropriate use for her lips than uttering weak words and kissed her husband. Saito gathered his wife into his arms, carrying her to the futon where he gently laid her down. Tonight, he would make sure he appreciated every part of her to its fullest.


	2. Chapter 2

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The office was as silent as ever. The fan on the ceiling turned slowly, but it wasn't stirring up clouds of cigarette smoke like it normally did. Papers were still being inspected, but not with quite so many cynical comments as usual. Chou could feel a drop of sweat trickle down his forehead. The hairs on the back of his neck stood alert, waiting for some wrathful turn of fate. He didn't dare take his eyes off his boss. The man seemed entirely too calm, and Chou knew all too well how quickly the wolf could spring into action, and that it was prudent to be cautious of Saito with or without a bare sword in his hands. Narrow eyes glanced up for the third time that hour, but Chou wasn't fast enough in attempting to look like he was still reading the document in front of him. Saito eyed his subordinate for a moment.

"Is there a problem, Chou?"

That was the last straw. Chou leapt to his feet.

"What's the matter with you, boss? Ya ain't had more than two cigarettes all mornin', ya ain't complainin' or scowlin' so much, and now ya call me by my rightful name? Somethin' happen to put ya in such a good mood? Win some bets or somethin'?"

Saito appraise Chou for a moment, making the sword collector feel only a quarter of his actual height. At least that felt normal, and more comfortable. But then, the unthinkable happened. Chou couldn't even look; he averted his eyes. He thought he felt his blood turn solid at just the glimpse of what he saw.

Saito smiled.

Not a predatorial smile. Not the smile-like smirk that Saito tended to give. Not the collected, confident smile of knowing that some evil was about to be demolished. But a genuine, happy, almost gentle smile.

"Everything is perfectly normal, Chou, there's nothing to worry about."

"You win a fight today?"

"No."

"Win some money?"

"No."

"Taking some exotic vacation soon?"

"And leave everything in your hands? In your dreams."

By now, Saito had cast his glance back down to his paperwork. Chou continued to study his superior, trying to read the glow that seemed to surround his boss. There was something quite distinctive about the vibes that the officer was giving off, something that Chou felt he should have been able to recognize immediately ---

"Ah!" Chou exclaimed, standing rather suddenly. "You got laid!"

Saito froze, his amber eyes slowly moving up to look at his subordinate. Chou couldn't help but smirk. He knew he'd struck gold. He pulled his chair over to Saito's desk, plopping back down and facing him directly even as the man squirmed and tried to continue his work.

"The Great Saito Hajime, takin' in all the pleasures of the flesh! Ya gotta tell me all the dirty details."

Chou looked at Saito expectantly, but the man didn't reply. He only pulled out one of the imported cigarettes, lighting it and taking a draw.

"C'mon, boss!" Chou continued eagerly. "What kinda tail does the Wolf of Mibu chase? Ya pick her up off the street, or did you blow some of your pay on some high-class courtesan?"

Saito slammed his desk drawer shut, glaring.

"You should know full well that I do not support the ring of prostitution in any form."

"Right, yea. So, then… you got some kinda sweetheart, then?"

Chou could have sworn he saw a vein throbbing out of Saito's head. The man took another long pull from his cigarette, slowly letting it out. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"She's my wife, Chou, honestly. Now can we get back to work?" he said, exasperated.

The fact that Saito had smiled was shocking. The fact that he'd been with a woman was scandalous. The fact that he was actually a domesticated, married man nearly gave Chou a stroke. Saito frowned as he saw Chou's face going pale. He flicked some ash off of his cigarettes.

"I don't know why you're so shocked," he said, much more comfortable now that Chou was in shock and Saito had once again gained the upper hand. "It's not as if you've never seen her before. She's the one who let you into the house last weekend."

Chou paused for a moment, his mind working back to the day he'd dropped by to deliver a document for Saito. A young woman had greeted him and escorted him inside. After that, he hadn't seen her, but then he hadn't stayed for long, and what brief time he was there, he was going over business with Saito. He hadn't really given the woman much thought, but now that he made the effort to recall her, it seemed he did remember her.

"That little darlin' is yer wife? Well, shoot, I thought she was your sister or somethin'. I was gonna start hittin' on her."

He chuckled until he saw the death glare from Saito. Chou gulped, muttering something about how he was only kidding. Saito cleared his throat, composing himself and fading back into the less pleasant man that Chou was accustomed to.

"Speaking of my wife, she was asking about you," Saito said casually, though Chou recognized the warning undertone that kept him from making any snappy comments. "She wants you to join us for dinner sometime."


	3. Chapter 3

Tokio perked up as she heard the latch on the door lift. She quickly measured out one last pinch of spice, adding it to the top of the fish before covering it. Today was the day that Chou was coming to dinner. She'd been preparing for it all day, cleaning the house extra well and preparing a special dinner. She'd even made Aiji stay outside to play to keep him from accidentally messing things up, and the boy had cheerfully helped her to clear the leaves off of the walkway and make sure that the outdoor area around the house was neat. With Saito being so cautious about his work, it was a rare occurance when they entertained guests. Even some of the women that she had known for years were not allowed to come to the house unless Saito had performed a thorough background check on them and their families. Now they were not only having a guest, but an important one – someone who worked alongside her husband day in and day out.

She hastily straightened out her kimono has she rushed to the door, met by the sight of her husband. Alone. She peered around him, but saw no sign of the guest that she'd been expecting. Saito ignored her look, coming up to the porch and taking off his jacket.

"Where is he?" Tokio asked expectantly.

"Hello to you, too," Saito replied grumpily.

"Where's Chou?" Tokio insisted stubbornly. Saito shrugged, handing his jacket to her and unbuttoning his uniform.

"He was moving too slowly. I left him in the woods somewhere. I suspect he'll manage to find his way here by tonight, unless he's even more of an idiot than I first believed."

Tokio could only stare at her husband. Saito stared back for a moment before he could no longer hold it back. He smirked, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

"I'm joking. He's outside with Eiji."

Tokio slapped her husband playfully when he pulled her in for a kiss. She finally giggled as he refused to let her go without returning some affection. She kissed him lightly, running her fingers through his hair. Saito froze, sensing his danger just seconds before Tokio frowned at him.

"I thought I told you to get your hair cut today," she said, holding onto the longer hairs that should have been absent, refusing to let go of him now just as he had done to her a moment ago. Saito growled, finally squirming out of his wife's grip.

"I was busy. I don't see why I need it cut anyway."

"You look like a Mongol, and we have a guest!"

"He sees me like this every day, Tokio…"

"Go get changed and then I'll give you a trim on the porch."

Saito grumbled, but when he emerged from his bedroom a short while later, he could see Tokio out on the porch, laying out some of her knives while an admiring Chou stood nearby, inspecting the blades lustfully. Saito crept out, slamming the door shut and watching with pleasure as the sound made Chou jump.

Chou took a step backwards almost instinctively as the shoji screen slid shut with a bang. If the sudden noise hadn't startled him into backing off, then Saito's glare certainly would have. The yellow, predatorial eyes didn't leave Chou as his boss sat down in front of the woman whose small knife collection Chou had been admiring.

Tokio knelt behind her husband, draping a bit of cloth over his broad shoulders before she carefully began to slice the ends of his shaggy hair with a couple of her knives. Chou cautiously took a seat on the porch, watching with a grin.

"So, this is where the Wolf of Mibu comes to get his fur trimmed," Chou chuckled.

"She could make quick work of that broom you call hair," Saito snapped back, though he was swiftly silenced by a playful thwap on the head. Tokio turned and smiled at Chou, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Go ahead and let yourself into the dining room, Chou," Tokio said cheerfully. "Make yourself comfortable. We'll be in shortly."

Chou nodded politely, letting himself into the house. It was immaculately clean, and the air moved freely through it. The smell of fish and rice wafted through the air tantalizingly. A few paintings were hung here and there, simple ones of things like flowers and mountains. A few pieces of painted pottery were displayed on small tables in various alcoves. Despite the Westernization of the country, the Saito household maintained a very traditional tone.

Chou found his way to the dining room. Like the other rooms he had seen, it was impeccable, the low table's surface shining. The cushions were all carefully matched, though two of the four looked slightly deflated with use.

The door on the opposite side of the room slid open, and the owners of the immaculate home entered. Chou couldn't help but smile. Eiji, the boy he'd met outside, came dashing in with Tokio chasing after him. Saito ducked into the room after them, rubbing the back of his neck irritably where his hair, shaggy from the trip to Kyoto, was now neatly trimmed. Tokio and Eiji disappeared into the kitchen for a moment. Saito appraised Chou for a moment, then, with a derisive "hmph," the tall superior plopped down onto one of the cushions.

"Don't just stand there, moron. And put your swords with your shoes. Tokio has no tolerance for weapons at the dinner table."

Chou did as ordered, and by the time he returned to the dining room, the entire family had been seated. Saito and Eiji had taken their places on the worn cushions across from each other, while Tokio knelt next to her husband, dishing steaming cuts of fish onto his plate alongside the rice. Chou couldn't help but feel drawn to her. The long sleeves of her kimono had been tied back as she served, revealing a rather deep scar on her left arm. She had tied her hair back, and the face that emerged from the black locks was flushed with the domestic excursions of preparing dinner. Chou shook himself, finally taking his seat. Tokio was by his side immediately, picking out the remaining choice pieces of fish and setting them on his plate. Chou couldn't take his eyes off of her. Tokio glanced up at him, looking a bit surprised at his obvious admiration, but she only offered a small smile and took the serving tray over to Eiji's plate.

Once everyone had been served, they finally began to eat. Saito ate in silence. Across from him, Eiji also ate carefully and silently, quite different from the excited, playful boy he had been when Chou had seen him outside. The only one who didn't appear to be at a funeral rather than a dinner was Tokio. She knelt across from Chou, watching him eat while the few scraps that were left to her grew cold.

"How do you like it, Chou-sama?" Tokio asked after a few moments.

"It's real good, Miss Saito, thanks," Chou responded. "It's been a real long time since I've gotten a home-cooked meal. I forgot how good it can be."

"Oh?" Tokio inquired. "Doesn't your wife cook for you?"

Saito coughed, apparently choking on some rice. He shot a look at his wife, but she was carefully keeping her gaze away from him. Chou merely chuckled.

"I ain't got a wife, Miss Tokio," he answered.

Chou caught the look between husband and wife. Tokio was all smiles, blissfully ignoring the piercing glare coming from her counterpart.

"It must be exhausting coming home after work and having to cook for yourself and mind the house by yourself."

Chou shook his head, swallowing another piece of fish.

"The government pays for my room in one of the inns, and I usually just eat there."

A mild look of horror overcame Tokio. Saito had fixed her with a hard stare, but she genuinely didn't seem to notice. Eiji glanced at his adoptive parents, then quietly excused himself, taking his empty plate to the kitchen. Saito cleared his throat, but Tokio spoke up before he had a chance to say anything.

"Well, I think that's just absurd. A single room for a grown man, and eating at an inn every day. Especially for someone as important as a police officer! Surely you must have some other place to go, someone who's willing to take you in…"


	4. Chapter 4

Note from the Author: When writing this fic, I'd intended to use much of the historical facts of the lives of the real Saito Hajime and Takagi Tokio. However, it was shortly before I began this chapter that I realized their son, Tsutomu, had been born in the 9th year of the Meiji – two years before this story takes place. Even though it seems like a small detail, I didn't feel comfortable adding him in at this point (which is a real pity because I think a babysitting sequence with Chou could get quite interesting). As RK Saito never once mentions his son, I think this is an acceptable omission. For the sake of the story, Saito and Tokio have no children of their own. I might write an alternative story later which includes Tsutomu. We'll see. Happy reading!

Saito Hajime was a hard man. He'd joined the police force at a rather young age, and had quickly impressed his superiors with his prowess and ruthlessness in battle. As a Shinsengumi leader, he had established for himself a reputation which extended all over the country. His quarry trembled when they learned that he was on their trail, and men had done desperate things to escape him, but had always failed in the end. He was easily one of the most feared men in Japan for both his military power and his exceptional skill with the sword.

Why, then, had he always had one opponent who had managed to just barely slip from him, who bore the mark of his sword but did not tremble under his gaze? He's brought dozens if not hundreds of men to justice; why could a single woman elude his control?

He'd been standing in the doorway for nearly half an hour, watching her. She hummed as she worked around the room that had been nearly empty the day before. She was perfectly aware of his presence and they both knew it, but she'd carefully avoided having to pass through the doorway, instead choosing to arrange and rearrange all of the new furnishings in the hopes that he would give up and eventually leave. Saito kept his eyes on her. It took several more minutes but she finally did turn around, acknowledging him with an annoyed glare.

"Are you going to help me or just stand there, Hajime?" she snapped, breaking the silence that had settled between them since their argument the night before.

"This was your idea in the first place, woman," Saito snapped back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know what goes on in that head of yours sometimes."

Tokio had been laying out a futon, but at this she whirled around, facing her husband.

"The man needs a place to stay, Hajime," she growled, trying to keep her temper down.

"He has a place to stay, Tokio."

"That's hardly a home, Hajime! You know how I hate it when you stay in town and have to stay in one of those rooms. That's no place for a man to live. And he can't very well make the trip back and forth between here and Osaka every day. Besides, we have the extra space."

"Extra space meant for our family, Tokio, not to take in some stray mongrel from off the streets, and a former criminal at that."

Tokio tried to leave the room, but Saito's frame filled the doorway, blocking her exit. She sent him another glare, all the anger from their argument the night before filling her again. She knew that it hadn't been right of her to invite Chou to live with them without talking to her husband about it first. Even though it had been her father who had given them the house to live in after they'd been married, Saito was the head of the household, and it was his money that kept them on the property. Still, for security reasons, he'd had the house transferred under her name, and even after they'd changed their legal names, she retained ownership of the estate. She'd used this fact in her favor once or twice during their marriage when they got in arguments. No matter who the house technically belonged to, they both had to live there with one another. Tokio finally gave a resignated sigh, taking the cloth covering that had protected her hair off.

"You're right, Hajime-sama. I shouldn't have offered the house without asking you first. I just thought it would be nice to have a bit more life in the house like I used to have before we were married…"

Saito sighed, assessing his wife. He was quite accustomed to men making false, desperate offers to sway him, but the manipulations of a woman were considerably more challenging to stand against. Especially with Tokio, five years his wife, who knew him better than he often liked to admit. He knew that she had come from a proud family, with siblings and her parents. He knew that she felt lonely in their matrimonial home, with room enough to shelter many children that her parents had bade them to bear on their wedding day. He knew it every time he came home and saw the look in her eyes, a certain happiness to simply see another person. He knew it when he brought Eiji to her, when he'd explained that the boy would only be there temporarily until they found more of his real family to stay with. He had warned the boy not to get too comfortable even as Tokio bustled about preparing a room for the child to stay in, arranging to have it painted his favorite shade of green. Tokio's excitement had been obvious, and when Saito had immediately set out for Kyoto again, the lonely look in her eyes was not there. Saito sighed, looking at his wife whose mood had been deflated. He scowled a bit even as he reached out to touch her cheek.

"Another mouth to feed… you'd better make him help out around the house. I will not shelter a band of freeloaders like that Kamiya dojo does."

Tokio burst into a smile, leaning up to give her husband a kiss. She didn't seem surprised at all by his consent, and this made him scowl deeper. Once again, he'd been played by her.

"Thank you, Hajime-sama," she said sweetly. "And don't worry. I'll make sure he does his part. But it'll only be temporary anyway."

Saito frowned and looked around the room. Tokio had been working on setting the room into perfect order for the better part of the day, airing it out and sweeping every corner. He pulled a cigarette out of one of his pockets, lighting it absently.

"Seems you're going through quite a lot of trouble for a temporary lodging, Tokio-san," he said evenly, trying not to let his suspicion show.

"Well, I expect he'll find himself a wife soon enough around here and settle down in his own place. And take that outside, I just aired this out!"

Tokio shoved Saito out of the doorway. He took another draw from his cigarette as he watched her bustle down the hall, calling for Eiji to bring some water in for supper.

"Oh, gods, Tokio… don't tell me you intend to play matchmaker," he said, following her into the kitchen. She didn't bother to look at him, only pulling out a few pots as she began dinner.

"And why not? My father did it and look at how well that turned out."

Saito knew he couldn't very well object to that one without getting himself into some trouble. He merely "hmph"ed and took another puff of his cigarette as Tokio continued.

"Besides, I have plenty of perfectly kind friends who could use a good husband. I really think he'd be good for Saya especially, or perhaps Rika. They'd both be ide---"

"Saya has a husband," Saito interjected. Tokio passed him, waving her hand to disperse the smoke cloud that was beginning to fill the kitchen.

"One that beats her regularly… I'm sure that if Chou takes a liking to her, he'll take care of that. I'm surprised you haven't gone over there yourself by now. You know how he abuses her…"

Saito snorted, but didn't answer. He wasn't about to let on that he had been to the house at least twice now and had the man arrested, but his wife had taken him back both times. As much as he despised a man whose only means of power was through abusing his wife, he couldn't very well help someone who refused to do anything to get herself out of that situation. He finished the last few draws of his cigarette as Tokio chattered on.

"Besides, I think it will be good for you, Hajime. You two work so closely together, it will be good for you to get to know one another in a setting aside from the station. Maybe you'll make a friend of him."


End file.
